


Geisha Makeup

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 19th Century, Angst, Gen, Makeup, Semi-Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>China decides, when she gets a visit from her colonized brother, that she wants to put makeup on him. Portugal, the colonizer, feels rather strongly about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Geisha Makeup

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbleish thing based off of the tag, 'Makeup.'

Gently, ever so gently, China began putting the white on Macau's face. “This is how Japan does it,” she chirped, fingers covering and blending the white makeup all over his face. 

“But for women?” Macau asked, a sort of unsureness in his tone. He was taller than China by a lot, but they both knew who was stronger. Still, he obviously trusted her enough not to get up and run at the request to be allowed to make him up.

“Yes. But you have nice cheekbones, so you will look all right,” China said with a smile. She was covering his face rapidly, thinking of little Japan and how she looked so good in this makeup. Now, Japan was older than Macau by far, but again, shorter and generally more slight.

Macau nervously pushed his short hair back from his face. His eyebrows had nearly disappeared beneath the white, and he looked almost ghostly. “Can I ask why?”

“No, you cannot,” China said, and as she put away the white makeup, she got the lip rouge out, making just the right shape on his lips. Macau was skinny, thin enough to pass for a woman since he was not quite, just barely not, a full grown man yet. Eighteen, nineteen, he looked somewhere around there, though he was much older than that.

Macau seemed a little unsettled, but he went quiet, simply watching as China's fingers expertly put on his makeup.

She was happy. She quite enjoyed makeup and fashion, though she had seen a lot of it come and go. She could still remember many interesting eyebrow shapes that had been the absolute height of fashion, the ways that it changed, ebbed and flowed.

“Isn't this geisha makeup?” Macau asked, adding, “I didn't know Japan worked as a geisha.”

“She does. She likes it,” China said, and stepped back to look at her masterpiece. 

Macau looked lovely, almost like Japan. His face was just right for this kind of makeup, and it made her smile. “You look so cute!”

Macau grinned shyly. He enjoyed praise, even if he didn't quite understand it.

China would have patted his cheeks, but she didn't want to mess up the makeup. Her heart went a little heavy as she thought that very soon, she would have to return him, but she had the rest of the day to be with him. She was still imagining what else to do when the smile dropped from Macau's face, and his eyes went wide as saucers.

She turned, and there stood Portugal, a mix of shock and growing anger on his face. He stomped over to where they were with his heavy boots, and grabbed Macau's face to pull him forward. “What,” he said in a heated tone, “are you wearing on your face?”

Macau's lips seemed to tremble as he tried to stutter out an excuse. China was quick to jump in, snapping, “We were just doing something fun together! Surely you can't begrudge me doing something silly with the brother I never see!”

This only seemed to flare up Portugal's anger. “He looks like some prostitute! And an ugly one at that!” He seized the nearest piece of cloth, and was about to wipe the makeup off of Macau's face, but China caught his wrist.

“Stop it! You said I could have him until the late evening, so leave him alone until then!”

“This is an abomination,” Portugal growled, wrenching his hand free, “And you know it.”

China glared with all her might. She felt like her knuckles would break, with how tightly she was clenching her fists. But again, while Portugal was not the power it had once been, she still did not have the option to fight him.

Macau gently tried to pry the cloth from Portugal's hand, murmuring, “I can clean it off myself, sir...”

But Portugal shoved it in his face, and began to scrub. Red, white, and black came off, and Macau made small, distressed noises whenever Portugal scrubbed too hard. His face was reddish by the time all the makeup was off, and China could feel her own face reddening, but in anger.

Still, she tucked her hands in her sleeves, and watched with a steely anger.

“I'm taking him back. You've forfeited your visit.” Portugal directed Macau towards the door.

China simmered, saying, “I see. Of course.”

Macau went, head hanging. He did turn back, though, to nod his head in China's direction and promise, “It's all right. Portugal is not a bad master.”

This only made the anger more red hot in China's veins, but she nodded back. “Goodbye, Macau.”

And he went with Portugal.

China didn't know enough to know if Macau was telling the truth. She had never seen a mark on his body. 

Once again, she was left alone with anger, and the rest of the day and much of the night was spent battling it.


End file.
